


Wilder than Her

by QuickLikeLight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Captivity, Cunnilingus, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everybody Lives, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Relationship Negotiation, Road Trips, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/pseuds/QuickLikeLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"You have to start making some decisions, Allison. You have to stop letting the pack decide your fate. You have to tell Scott no."</i> Allison glanced at her passenger and thought, for the first time since they’d returned from France, she might actually agree with her dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wilder than Her

**Author's Note:**

  * For [electrahearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrahearts/gifts).



> This was written for the Teen Wolf RarePair Exchange! My recipient, ericayukimura/electrahearts gave me a ton of fantastic pairings and scenarios to choose from. From those, I picked Allison/Erica, and the prompt "character A and character B are alone together for the first time" with a side of "hand holding" (in a strange sort of way), "everyone is alive," Alpha!Scott, and relationship negotiation. 
> 
> This is a canon divergent fic, taking place after the events of Season 3B. In this universe, Erica survived the bank vault with Cora and Boyd; the three of them are integrated into the McCall pack along with Derek after he gives up his Alpha powers. Allison was stabbed by the Oni at Oak Creek, but did not die. Instead, Chris took her to France to heal and recover from the trauma. They return to Beacon Hills before graduation. This story takes place very shortly after. 
> 
> There are references to previous traumas experienced by both major characters, but they are not dealt with in depth, and the recovery from those traumas has already taken place. Still, if you are easily triggered by themes of captivity and/or non-graphic references past canonical violence, please make the best decision for your mental and emotional well-being. 
> 
> I couldn't have written this without the help of my fantastic beta, [FutureMrsWatson](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FutureMrsWatson/pseuds/FutureMrsWatson) ([get-stiles](http://get-stiles.tumblr.com) on tumblr) and the support of the fantastic writers in the Root Cellar writing chat. The title comes from the [song by the same title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pJksfSUDJ4), recommended to me by [bootsnblossoms](http://bootsnblossoms.tumblr.com).
> 
> Ericayukimura, I sincerely hope you enjoy this story. It was a pleasure to write.

“Get in. No drinks. Don’t get lipstick on anything,” Allison groused, throwing her bag into the trunk of her Challenger. If Erica responded, Allison didn’t see it, too caught up in examining the plum-pearl paint as it sparkled in the light.

“It’s new, right?” Erica asked, buckled in tightly. “The color’s beautiful. Suits you.” She held onto the faded backpack she carried instead of a suitcase, and kept her arms pinned tightly to her sides. Allison winced internally.

“Um, yeah, yeah, it’s new. Just got it, for, uh-” She fumbled her keys.

“...Graduation?” Erica prompted.

“Yeah. _Graduation_.” The engine rumbled as she threw it in gear and backed out of her driveway, filling her senses with the awareness of all that power under the hood. It usually never failed to make her grin, but she couldn’t muster up even a quirk of her lips, not with her dad’s voice playing in the back of her head: _You have to start making some decisions, Allison. You have to stop letting the pack decide your fate. You have to tell Scott no._ She glanced at her passenger and thought for the first time since they’d returned from France, she might actually agree with her dad.

“You never struck me as much of a muscle car kind of girl,” Erica said, staring out the side window.

“I’m not sure you ever struck me as anything,” Allison shot back, dreading the prospect of a six hour drive with Erica playing the part of navigator. “Before today, I don’t think we’ve ever even been alone in the same room.”

“We were, once.” Erica seemed to stare outside more pointedly. “There wasn’t any striking. That time.”

Allison huffed and reached for the stereo.

 

_“C’mon Allison, it’s not so bad. We’re pack now. All of us. No hard feelings, right?” He pleaded. With puppy eyes. Allison cringed. Even after two years of being just friends, and all her time away, she still couldn’t say no to the puppy eyes._

_“I get why we need to go. I even get why I need to go talk to the hunters. I don’t get why I need to go with_ Erica _,” she tried anyway._

_“You have to have a wolf with you to get into the Summit after you’re done with the Arma family, and everyone else was already partnered up. You know I’d come with you if I could, but -”_

_“Yeah, yeah, I know. You need to stay with Stiles, meet the other Alphas,” she grumped. He patted her on the chin, lifting her head._

_“Come on Allison,” he smiled. “It’s just one little road trip. One week, you negotiate with the hunters, figure out what they know about our territory, get them to agree to leave us alone. One week, and then the pack summit, and you can come back and party with us, wolf style. How bad could it be, really? Maybe you guys will… I dunno, find something to talk about. Make friends.”_

_Allison rolled her eyes. “Scott McCall, eventually you’re going to realize not everybody is friend material.” He laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek._

_“I sure hope not.”_

 

The drive was excruciating. Traffic was bad. It was hot, and even the darkest tint on the windows couldn’t keep Allison’s skin from burning a bit where the sun beat down into the car. She’d lost what little resistance she had to the California heat while they were in France, and the muggy June warmth trying to overcome the Challenger’s air conditioning made her cranky. Worse yet, Erica had barely moved from the stiff, curled-in position she’d sat down in an hour and a half before, and it was starting to drive Allison a little bit crazy.

“You don’t have to sit that way you know,” she said, aiming for conversational. She wasn’t sure she got there.

“I’m not sitting any particular way,” Erica said, but the tension in her shoulders eased some. Allison risked a look at her out of the corner of her eye, taking in her messy, braided hair flung over one shoulder, the slightly oversized Beacon Hills lacrosse jersey she’d obviously stolen from one of the boys, the soft knit mini-skirt that seemed more Lydia than Erica. She looked - well, pretty, obviously, but something else too. Approachable? Different.

“I like your outfit,” Allison ventured. “And the, um, hair. Give the hot rollers a rest?”

“The curls don’t stay unless I drown myself in hairspray,” Erica shrugged. “Scott told me you have allergies. I figured, you know… enclosed space, several hours, probably not a good time for hair spray by the gallon.”

“That was…” Allison hesitated, working her mouth around the words. “That was really thoughtful. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Erica murmured, pulling her bare feet up into the seat. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head there, looking tired and a bit - well - _sweet_. Allison shook her head. Erica Reyes was not sweet. She was a bitch. She was basically _the_ bitch. And yes, she’d settled down after they’d rescued her from the Alpha Pack, but Allison would have noticed if she’d suddenly turned into the girl next door. She was sure of it.

“You didn’t bring many clothes,” she tried again, gritting her teeth through the small talk. She wished fervently for Lydia or Isaac or Scott. Hell, even Stiles being a spastic asshole in the passenger seat would be better than awkward silence with a side of sad-looking.

“We’ll only be separated from the others for a little while. We’ll want to be at the Summit before the full moon, and it’s a week from now. Derek has the rest of my clothes in his bag.”

Allison laughed. “You made him pack your stuff in his bag?” She made a little whipping noise. Erica turned to face her, grin on her lightly-painted mouth.

“You should have seen his face when I tossed him my lingerie bag. I thought steam might come out his ears,” she giggled, tugging on the end of her braid. Allison smiled.

“You’d think he’d be used to that. Cora’s always got her laundry hanging up in the loft, so…”

“You know she does that just to aggravate him, right?” Erica tossed her head, trying to get her bangs out of her face. They fell right back over her forehead. “He never says anything to her about it though. Not a word. He’ll gripe and complain about it all day long to me, or to the boys -”

“Isaac and Boyd?” Allison quirked an eyebrow. Derek didn’t exactly seem like the oversharing type, especially since he wasn’t the Alpha any longer.

“Isaac, Boyd, Scott, Stiles, Peter, Liam, the Twins, the guy that rents apartment 2E, the pizza delivery guy -”

“So, everyone within earshot,” she grinned, eyes scanning the road for their next exit.

“Everyone of the masculine persuasion,” Erica agreed. “And me. For whatever reason. But not Cora. He never mentions it to her at all.”

“Surely she knows, though, right?”

“Of course. Last time I went down to the basement to put my clothes in the dryer, she was already bringing them upstairs to hang on her clothesline. In the living room.”

Allison giggled, rolling her eyes. “I bet you were glad when she got back from South America, huh? Must be rough, living with all those guys.”

“Nah,” she said, toying with the hem of her skirt. “Guys are pretty easy to get along with. Cora’s not bad, but you know… she sort of goes hot and cold pretty easily. Especially if somebody brings up _Lydia_. When the guys are pissed at me, we just go train for a couple of hours and they get it out of their systems.”

“So, what, they just hit you until they feel better?” Allison gaped.

“Oh, _honey_ , if they did it wouldn’t matter. Female wolves are stronger, we can withstand more pain than them. But no. They don’t hit me. They can’t even catch me.” She grinned, smug, and Allison found herself smiling back.

“Well good. They shouldn’t hit you, even if you are stronger than they are.” She pulled off at their exit, eyeing the gas gauge dubiously. The Challenger eased up into a space next to the fuel pumps and she threw it in park, leaning back in her seat to roll her shoulders some. “Don’t know what they’d have to be upset at you about anyway, especially when they live with Cora and Derek. And, ugh, Peter.”

Erica flashed her teeth as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Mostly that their girlfriends end up liking me more than them.” She shrugged as she climbed out of the car, palming her wallet. “Not my fault dumb boys can’t even use their super senses to find a clit.” She winked as she swept off toward the dingy gas station, hips swaying under her skirt.

Allison blinked.

Erica was definitely not as sweet as she looked.

* * *

 

They probably should have realized the hunter parley was a trap. To be fair, it wasn’t like Allison was intimately acquainted with the customs of hunters other than her own family; after that little stabbing incident with the Oni at Oak Creek, her dad had whisked her away to France for over a year. She’d only gotten him to bring her back to Beacon Hills in time for graduation by promising that they’d stay out of supe business - really out of it, this time.

Trying to parley with the Armas was probably not what he would consider “staying out of it.” Especially since it landed her in a grubby basement prison with a knocked-out werewolf, a slight concussion, and no way to reach the pack. Allison sighed. How was this her life, again?

Erica groaned from her spot on the floor. There was dirt on her face, and her shirt was torn from the brief scuffle they’d had before Harold Arma held a wolfsbane-covered rag over Erica’s nose and abruptly ended things with a sneered, “This isn’t even the Alpha.”Allison crawled over and shook her, trying to ease her awake.

“Erica? Come on girl, wake up,” Allison puffed, pushing the wolf onto her side and trying to get at her hands. Erica pulled away.

“No dog jokes,” she grunted, eyes fluttering behind her eyelids. Allison snorted at her.

“Wake up, Lassie. I think we’re the ones in the bottom of the well this time!” She nudged Erica with her knee, hoping for a reaction, but all she got was a heaving sigh. “Come on, Reyes. Give me something to work with here. We’ve probably both got concussions. Or, we did. You probably healed before they tied you up. Still, need to wake up, and stay awake.”

“Easy for you to say,” Erica moaned. “You’re human.”

“Why does that have anything to do with anything? Shouldn’t being human make me more likely to, you know, die from head trauma?”

“Sure, but at least it won’t be from the fucking stench. God, it’s like an outhouse vomited 3am Del Taco in here and then washed it down with that shitty wolfsbane moonshine Jackson’s always making.”

Allison couldn’t help the hysterical giggles rising up through her gut. “He makes moonshine?”

“Apparently there are cons to being a werewolf,” Erica cracked her eyes open, just so she could roll them. “Mainly that he can’t get drunk unless he poisons himself.”

“Well, humans sort of can’t either,” Allison grinned. She winced when her lip split back open from a well-aimed punch she’d taken earlier. The sharp tang of blood hit her nose, and seconds later, Erica’s.

“You’re hurt,” the wolf growled, struggling to get upright. She was tied tightly with wolfsbane laced rope, but with a sharp pop and a grimace she had her arms pulled in front of her body. Allison cringed, but Erica shook her head. “I was double jointed before Derek turned me. The bite didn’t fix it, so sometimes I still get to use it to my advantage.”

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Oh, it hurts. It just doesn’t last.” Erica checked her over carefully, using bound hands to sweep Allison’s hair away from her eyes and the shallow cut on her forehead. She hissed as Erica’s bright red painted fingers probed carefully around the wound, but the wolf was gentle, soothing her with soft shushes.

“Lay back,” Erica encouraged, seating herself against the wall. “Put your head in my lap. You’ll rest easier that way.”

“Are you joking? I need to stay awake. Possible concussion, remember? Frail humanity here?” Erica pulled her back anyway, settling her head in the dip of Erica’s crossed legs. “I’ve seen a lot of frail humanity in our pack, Argent. I don’t think you count.” She ran her fingers awkwardly through Allison’s hair, pulling the strands apart where blood had begun to dry and clump them together. “Rest. Don’t worry. I won’t let you die.”

“Why should I trust you?” Allison whispered, eyes already starting to close.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” Erica’s voice was light, kind, as she ran dextrous fingers through Allison’s hair. “Sort of feels like we have to though, right? Make you a deal. If you won’t hurt me, I won’t hurt you. How’s that?”

She hoped the gentle nudge of her cheek against Erica’s thigh was agreement enough.

 

“Rise and shine, Alli,” Erica chirped. “They brought us breakfast! Look, a nice bit of banana for you, and some toast, and - ah… pretty sure this is what we call gruel, actually.”

Allison sat up slowly. She was stiff and achy from laying on the hard cement floor for hours, and her head pounded with a steady tattoo. Erica winced when she met her eyes.

“That bad huh?” Allison croaked.

“You’ve definitely seen better days,” Erica nodded, pushing the bowl of gruel toward her. “Eat that first. If it’s gonna make you puke anyway, I’d rather you ruin that than the banana.”

Allison’s stomach turned. The scent that Erica had been talking about the night before hit her fresh this morning, without her own blood and panic to dull her senses. She looked around, frantic, with a hand over her mouth. Erica moved swiftly, grabbing the bucket from the far corner and holding it in front of her face. She was promptly sick in it.

“That’s it, get it out,” Erica crooned, holding the bucket in place on the floor with her feet and using her bound hands to keep Allison’s hair out of the mess. “Get everything out. You’ll feel better, I promise.”

“How do you know?” Allison croaked, wiping her running nose on the back of her hand. “You probably haven’t puked in years.”

“Just ‘cause you don’t get sick doesn’t mean you don’t feel ill,” Erica said quietly. Allison sat back and scooted away from the bucket, nodding her thanks as Erica handed her a bottle of water. She sipped it carefully, swishing it around in her mouth once before swallowing again. They both cringed.

“Not sure when they’ll give us more,” she explained. Erica nodded and put the bucket down next to the stairs that led up and out of the basement before sitting back down in the corner of of the room.

“You don’t have to tell me about captivity, sweetheart.”

 _Three months._ Erica had spent three months imprisoned by the Alpha Pack. Allison shuddered.

“Was it… like this?” she ventured, curious and hating herself for it. “Did they feed you? Give you water?”

“They probably treated us better than this, honestly. I mean, at least with the Alpha Pack, everybody got fed. These guys want me to gnaw on you I think. Don’t worry though. I’m sort of a vegetarian.” Erica smiled, but Allison saw through it easily. It looked like Stiles’ smile when he talked about the Nogitsune, or Lydia’s when someone asked her about Peter. That trauma-tinged curve of lips that said, “You have no idea what I’ve been through, and I’m so, so glad.”

Allison knee-walked over to where Erica sat, slumped against the join of the walls.

“We’ll get out of here, you know,” she said, teeth gritted against the throb of her skull. “We’ll figure out a plan and we’ll get out. Or Scott will realize we’re missing, and the pack will come. It’s going to be okay.”

Erica gave her another sad smile. “Who you trying to convince, princess?”

 

The hours dragged by, but Erica seemed happy enough to spend the time quietly reflecting in her corner, or chatting with Allison about France, or the other betas. She didn’t talk about three months in a bank vault. Allison was starting to see why.

She paced around the basement, tugging her hair furiously and wishing she’d thought to put a ponytail holder around her wrist.

The thought made her stop in her tracks and laugh.

“What is it?” Erica eyed her, concerned.

“Nothing. Nothing! I was just… wishing for a ponytail holder,” Allison shook her head. “Of all things, you know? Not a weapon. Not a plan. Something to hold my hair back. I don’t even like to wear it up anymore! Gives me a headache. But I just -” she choked on a sob, rumbling up from her gut. “I just - I told my dad I’d stay out of it and I didn’t and _we just got back_ and I wanted to help - I wanted to help Scott and now I’m here and we’re stuck here -” she kicked her booted foot hard against the wall, barely flinching at the thrum of pain it sent up her leg, “- we’re stuck and I’m useless and you’re just - sitting there, wrapped up in wolfsbane and you - you haven’t even asked me to peel it off and I haven’t offered and -”

“Hey, hey, hush.” Erica lifted the joined circle of her hands around Allison’s shoulders, pulling her into an awkward hug. “You’re not useless. I have a very good use for you in mind, okay? I haven’t asked you to untie me for a reason. I need the rope.”

“Why? Why would you… why do you need the rope?”  

“Something we learned in the vault,” Erica whispered, eye on the door. “It might be… frightening.”

“I can handle frightening,” Allison hissed, trying to squirm out of Erica’s hold. Erica’s elbows tightened around her shoulders and pulled her back in.

“I might be frightening,” she corrected. “I won’t hurt you though. I swear, Allison, I won’t hurt you. You have to trust me, okay?”

It dawned on her then. “You’re using the rope to suppress the shift. You’re going to suppress the change through the full moon. It’ll make you wild.”

“No wilder than I already am,” Erica said, pressing her cheek to Allison’s. The scenting gesture wasn’t unfamiliar; Scott, Isaac, Boyd, even Derek had done it to her before, many times. When she’d come back from France it was like one giant puppy pile where each of them had rubbed their stubbled faces against hers, marking her as pack again. But this… this felt different. The touch felt illicit, like a brand where Erica’s skin had pressed against her own. Allison flushed, bright red spots of color staining her cheeks. Her quick intake of breath was like drowning in Erica’s scent: warm and spicy and almost too strong.

“You’re going to have to do some acting, alright?” Erica whispered in her ear, pulling her from the depths. “You have to act afraid of me. Act like I’ve hurt you.”

“They’ll be able to tell that you haven’t,” Allison said immediately.

“You’re a hunter. You have to know a way to convince them I have.”

“I’m not -” Allison twisted away from her, ducking out of her arms. “I’m not a hunter. Not anymore.”

“You were, once,” Erica said, nodding toward the door. “Make them believe you’re afraid of me. Remember that night on the preserve.”

“I wasn’t afraid of you then,” Allison sterned her jaw. “I was afraid of myself.”

Erica laughed, hollow. “That makes two of us.”

 

The hunters came back at nightfall, this time with two bottles of water and bowls of broth. Allison drank hers down eagerly, showily, sitting crosslegged in a corner across the room from Erica. The hunter that brought the bowls waited, so they wouldn’t be able to keep them, to use them. It was fine. She could work with that.

“Can’t you keep her somewhere else?” Allison sneered at the wolf. Erica snapped her teeth in reply.

“Don’t pretend with us, Argent. We know you’re a wolf’s bitch,” he grunted, tossing his head in Erica’s direction. “Might as well be that one.”

“Maybe you hadn’t heard. I almost killed her once. She’s not especially fond of me.”

“Almost?” he asked with a sneer. “What sort of hunter stops at almost?”

“The sort that was 17 and had an overprotective father. Believe me, if I’d had a choice, I would have done it.” Allison didn’t need to look; she could feel the wolf’s eyes on her. The hunter laughed.

“I’d heard Chris had gone soft. People say it was because of you. Maybe not, eh?”

Allison tried not to bristle at the characterization of the strongest man she knew as “soft.” In the language of hunters, he meant weak, and her father was not that. She might be, she wasn’t sure, but he definitely wasn’t. She forced a smile instead, and sipped the water from her bottle.

“I’ve always been a bit too much to handle,” she said. “But the full moon is in less than a week. Are you sure she can’t get out of those ropes? She’ll tear me to pieces if you don’t give me something to defend myself with.”

“Leave her tied up, princess.” The hunter took her bowl and bottle. “Sleep with one eye open.”

Allison cursed, but when he went back up the stairs, she and Erica both relaxed instantly.

“Did I do well enough?” she ventured, rolling her shoulders to try and ease the leftover tension in them.

“Well enough that they won’t question why you’re not trying to untie me.” Erica stayed in her corner on her side of the room. Allison quirked her head.

“Are you upset?”

“I don’t -” Erica started. “I don’t like to think about it. The time before.”

“Before…?”

“The vault.”

Allison crawled slowly across the dirt-strewn floor, quiet, head bowed.

“What do you need?” she asked, nearing Erica’s corner. “Will you tell me?”

Erica shook her head, drawing her knees up and encircling them with her arms. “Just… I miss the pack. Could you just…”

“Be pack?” Allison asked, sidling up close. Erica nodded.

The floor was cold and hard, but Allison slid down onto her back, resting her head on one bent elbow. Erica laid down too, nuzzling her face into the soft stretch of Allison’s stomach. Her breath was warm through the thin cotton of Allison’s t-shirt, and her hair felt soft and silky as Allison threaded her fingers through it, loosening it from the braid that kept it out of her face. They lay there together, quietly, just breathing in one another. Resting. Waiting. If a hot buzz of _something_ welled up in the pit of Allison’s stomach, she ignored it fiercely. Desperately.

 

Four more days passed much the same way. Allison tried to provoke their guards, to get something, anything out of them, but the Armas were a well-controlled group, and after the first day, none of them even spoke to her. So she focused her efforts on Erica instead.

The chill of the drive to Arma country had thawed so much that she barely remembered the anger she’d felt when Scott told her that Erica would be coming with her. She wasn’t sure if it was the close quarters, the stress of captivity, or the shared misery of peeing in a paint bucket, but something between them _changed_. Erica talked freely about life in the pack, about what they had fought while she’d been away (fairies; apparently they liked Lydia but hated shapeshifters and mostly wanted to be drunk on sugar water all of the time), about her hopes for her freshman year of college.

“Just community college,” she said, almost shy. “I don’t want to be apart from the pack. They need me. Cora’d go nuts if I left her alone with the guys.”

“Community college is a good start,” Allison nodded, trying hard not to think about the stack of acceptance letters she had sitting, unanswered, on her desk, or of the grief on her dad’s face every time he noticed them.

“I’m usually pretty good at the start,” Erica winked, “but my specialty is a big finish.” Allison’s heartbeat stuttered, fluttering wildly in her chest. She could feel her face heat, but Erica didn’t comment on it. She didn’t know whether to be thankful or tragically depressed.

They spent long hours talking, laying curled together in the corner Erica had decided was hers. Sometimes Erica curled her fingers into Allison’s hair, scratching gently at her scalp. Sometimes she sang. Her voice was high and tinny, like an old country and western singer’s, but it echoed nicely off the concrete walls, and sometimes Allison could imagine that they were just friends spending time together in one of their rooms, laying on the floor of the loft and talking about school and their friends’ love lives and how much their parents sucked.

The smell never really went away, though, and she never really got used to it.

 

The day of the full moon was different. Erica paced savagely in her corner, growling every time Allison tried to soothe her.

“You have no idea what it feels like,” she said, when Allison asked. “It’s like my blood is on fire, and there’s no relief in sight.”

“Do you want some water?” Allison offered her the bottle.

“I want out.”

Allison nodded. “Then we need a plan.”

 

The plan was simple enough. Wait until the moon was at its peak, attract the Armas’ attention, Erica would - well, handle it.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Loosen the ropes so I can get out when I have to, but don’t take them off,” Erica held her tied hands out for Allison to take. The knots were stubborn, but six days of minimal food and water and no werewolf healing had made Erica’s arms thinner, less firm, giving her more room to work the rope out of its tangle. For an hour she worked, slowly loosening the figure eight until it hung limp around Erica’s arms, still keeping her human but no longer binding her.

“You have to…” Erica grit out. “You have to hold them there. Hold them to my skin so I can’t get out.”

“What? Why?” Allison’s eyebrows drew down in a sharp furrow.

“It’s… the pull of the moon is strong. I haven’t shifted since the day we left. It’s been more than a year since I’ve gone this long without my wolf. I need… I need your help, to keep the ropes in place. Until it’s time.”

The moon was just rising, still early in its cycle, but it made Erica twitch. She rocked back and forth on her heels, swished her hips in her skirt, moving like she had to or she’d burst.

“Sit, sit,” Allison directed, sitting with her. Their crossed legs touched one another, bare knees pressing against shins. Allison wrapped her hands around Erica’s forearms, pressing the wolfsbane into her skin. Erica hummed, contented looking.

“Better?” Allison asked, trying not to think about the warmth of Erica’s skin, or the light in her eyes, or how strange it would be to go back to the pack after this. If they made it back.

“A bit,” Erica nodded. “Thanks. I haven’t really needed one in a while, but Scott was right. You’re good at it.”

Allison frowned. “Good at…?”

“Being an anchor. Control.”

“I do have a tendency to be a control freak,” Allison nodded. Erica rolled her eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those pretty girls who can’t take a fucking compliment,” she said, voice dry. Allison tried to fight the blush rising to her face. She felt like she probably failed.

“I’ll work on it,” she mumbled. Erica pulled her closer, eyes starting to ring with gold.

“You’re not holding it tight enough, to enough skin. Here,” Erica rucked up her jersey a bit, exposing her pale belly. “Wrap some extra around here. That will help.”

“How do I…?” Allison started, before huffing and climbing half into Erica’s lap. She pulled the ends of the rope where they overhung Erica’s arms and wrapped them around her torso in a loose loop.

“Tighter,” Erica encouraged, eyes beginning to dim. “I have to resist. Can’t without help.”

Allison hovered carefully over her for a moment before shaking her head and asking, “Can I just-”

“Yeah, yes, come on,” Erica pulled her in, settling her in a loose straddle across Erica’s lap. Allison wrapped her arms around Erica’s body, keeping the rope pressed tight to her skin and resting her face in Erica’s neck. Erica’s chin hooked over her shoulder.

“Better?”

“Much.” They were quiet for a long time, sharing breath and warmth and comfort, until Allison broke the silence.

“Are you going to kill them?”

Erica shrugged. “If I have to. I don’t supress the shift anymore, since… then. If the wolf thinks I’m in danger, it will do what’s necessary.”

“You sometimes talk like it’s something different from you. Like it’s separate.” Allison scraped her cheek over Erica’s shoulder, wiping sweat from her temple. “The others don’t talk about it like that, so much.”

“Boyd does, sometimes, and Cora. It feels… separate from you, if you’ve ever been separated from it. Feels like it’s stalking the jail cell, you know? Like it’ll fight its way out and eat you up.”

Allison giggled unthinkingly. Erica quirked a smile against the skin of Allison’s neck.

“Want me to eat you up, hunter girl?” she laughed, overly lascivious. A shot of white-hot arousal flooded through Allison’s body, sudden and scorching. She coughed, trying to hide her response, and hoped the smell of the basement was too strong for Erica to notice it.

“I don’t think you’re so big and bad,” she said. Her voice did not squeak. It was a miracle.

Erica leaned harder into Allison, pushing her back and rubbing her face against Allison’s in an obvious display. Allison’s breath came quickly, waiting for _something_ , something that had built for days in the tense space between them. Something she couldn’t just reach out and take.

“Careful,” she whispered, breath hot on Allison’s ear. “Or I’m going to start talking about what big eyes you have, and how much bigger they’d get if I had my hand up your skirt.”

Allison couldn’t help the breathy whimper that escaped her at the hot, heavy feeling of Erica’s hands on her ribs, their cheeks pressed together, the way Erica’s strong thighs cradled her body. She shook her head, trying to pull herself away from that dangerous edge that Erica seemed happily to be leading her toward.

“You don’t want to do that with me, Erica,” she shook her head again, hoping Erica would get it. That she wouldn’t have to say it.

“Why?” Erica asked, eyes big and shining. “Because you shot me once? Because I got locked in a dark room for a couple of months? Because life is hard? Because those reasons all suck. Don’t act like you don’t feel it. Not when I can smell it on you. If you want me, tell me you want me. If you won’t, tell me why.”

“Because I’m really not that good at control,” Allison countered. She surged forward, arms twining tighter around Erica’s waist, and kissed her. They tangled together desperate and wanting, bodies arching for contact. Erica groaned into her mouth, tongue tasting stale and mouth dry from too many days with too little water. It made Allison’s head spin.

“Not here,” Allison got out, cursing herself against Erica’s mouth. Erica pulled back, watching her for a second before she grinned, sharp and feral

“But not never?”

“When we - when we get out of here.” Allison nodded, quick, almost frantic.

“Something to look forward to, then.” Erica winked at her as she buried her face in Allison’s neck once more, pressing hard kisses into the fair skin there. Allison tangled her hands in Erica’s jersey and looked to the moon. Something to look forward to.

 

It wasn’t difficult to attract the Armas’ attention. Allison pulled a page from Lydia’s book and screamed her lungs out. She stayed far from the door, hiding herself in the corner heavy with Erica’s scent. She screamed, and they came running, shotguns in hand.

They didn’t even make it down the stairs.

Erica slid her hands out of the ropes as the door burst open, and the change hit her immediately, and hard. A week of suppressing the shift through the rise of the moon gave her an edge; she moved faster than Allison could track, and fought with fierce, brutal efficiency. After the first three Arma men went down, she tossed Allison a gun without even looking back.

“That’s not the appropriate way to handle a firearm,” she called up the stairs, racing after the wolf. Seconds later, a mass of bright, clinking silver nearly thumped her in the face. “Or my keys!”

A voice from the living area caught them off guard as Erica headed for the door.

“You managed to escape. Good for you!” Gabrielle Arma, the matriarch of the family, smiled serenely from her easy chair. Allison gaped. “You’ll have to forgive me. My husband is the hunter; I’m not all that interested in keeping a pair of young girls away from their friends.”

Erica flashed her teeth, a low growl erupting from her throat. Allison pushed a hand against her chest to still her.

“Are you saying you’re letting us go?” she asked, incredulous.

“Tell me how you got out, and I’ll even stop the alarm that David set off when he headed downstairs.” The old woman grinned, settling her arms on the armrests and kicking up her feet. “My Harold will be home any time now. If you want to get away, you’ll have to speak quickly.”

“I used the wolfsbane rope to suppress the shift. Allison untied me this evening and held the rope to my skin, so I’d be ready when the moon was at its fullest.”

“That explains the rope. How do you explain the deaths of three of my husband’s armed men?”

Erica growled. “They underestimated me.”

Gabrielle beamed. “Men usually do, honey. I told Harold it was a bad idea to try and capture the packmates of a True Alpha. He never does listen to me.” She got out of her chair with a groan and shooed them, more like someone’s sweet little grandmother than a woman who married a werewolf hunter. “Go on, you two. Hurry out of town, before they catch you. He’ll be quite fired up when he sees what you’ve done.”  
Allison stood, paralyzed by shock, until Erica grabbed her hand and pulled her away, out into the bright white light of the moon.

“You gonna be okay with that basement smell stinking up your fancy ride?” Erica grinned, jubilant in her victory. Allison shook her head as she climbed in.

“We’ll roll the windows down. Keep your feet off the dash.”

* * *

 

The adrenaline stayed coiled in Allison’s stomach as they pulled into a cheap motel. It stayed as they talked to the bored lady at the front desk, got their key, and grabbed four extra towels. It stayed as Erica licked her lips and winked, too overtly suggestive to be serious, and yet -

And yet.

Erica nodded her toward the shower as soon as they got inside the dingy room. “You smell, Argent. I’ll call the pack, tell them we’re safe. You go wash.”

“You don’t smell so great yourself, _Reyes_ ,” Allison laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe not, but you don’t have my keen sense of smell, and I didn’t get all fear-sweaty when Aunt May stopped us in the living room.” Allison shot her the middle finger with a glare, but turned and skipped off to the shower anyway. After a week without running water, a shower would be good. No, a shower would be fucking amazing.  

The hot water sluiced over her in the most welcome of ways. She spent ten minutes just standing under the spray, letting the heat melt away the buzz of tension in her muscles. When Erica pulled the curtain open, she barely even noticed.

“You haven’t even used soap yet, have you?” Erica laughed, grabbing the flimsy little bar of motel soap. She lathered it in her hands, spreading a sheer layer of foam all over her fingers, and wiggled them. “Want me to help you wash up?”

“You can start back there,” Allison turned, showing Erica her back and letting the water rain on her face. Erica’s hands on her shoulders were confident but careful. They slid slick over her shoulder blades, working down in quick, teasing circles of suds before coming back up and digging in, thumbs working at knotted muscle. Allison whimpered at the feeling. She fell forward, slowly, until she was braced against the cool tile of the shower wall, the faint smell of bleach tickling her nose. Erica’s hands kneaded the small of her back before slipping down over her ass and grabbing handfuls of flesh.

“Mmmmmnnnnhhhh.” She slid back against Erica’s warm body, letting the wolf wrap her up in a sudsy embrace from behind. Erica’s mouth was hot on her neck and Allison let her head loll to the side, limp on her shoulder. Erica laughed.

“Come on wet noodle,” she grinned against the skin of Allison’s neck. She ran the bar of soap teasingly around Allison’s breasts, then down the plane of her stomach, stopping at one hip. “We need to wash, or when our Alpha shows up in three hours, he’s going to know all about what we’ve been up to.”

“You don’t want him to know?” Allison asked. Erica bit her lip.

“Thought you might not, actually,” she confessed. Allison turned to face her, settling her hands on Erica’s shoulders.

“Why would _I_ not want him to know? Scott and I haven’t been a thing in years. We’re just friends.”

Erica’s silence was too telling, honestly.

“Erica… what do you think is happening here right now?” Allison reached behind her to turn the water off, preparing herself to step away. The low bubble of arousal that had been simmering in her gut for days now quieted at the soft, sad look on Erica’s face.

“I just meant… you know. You have stuff you’re going to do. Leave Beacon Hills, and the pack. Go to college probably. We all knew it was temporary. Girls like you… you don’t really run with wolves.”

Allison barked a laugh as she pulled open the shower curtain and reached for towels.

“You call falling in love with a True Alpha, being raised by werewolf hunters, faux-sacrificing myself to a magic tree, and getting stabbed in the gut by shadow ninjas _not_ running with wolves?”

“You did those things, sure,” Erica nodded. “But you didn’t choose them. Not really. This? Me? This would be a choice. I don’t think you’re ready to make that choice.

“How do you -”

“Besides, Allison, you… you left. You got out, away, across an entire ocean. We didn’t see you for over a year. You can leave. That’s… it’s important. You should be able to leave.”

Allison scrubbed the too-small motel towel over her face, feeling it heat at the implied accusation, the question Erica wasn’t asking: _How do I know you won’t run again?_ “ _That_ I didn’t have a choice in. My dad made me. He thought I was going to die.”

“Maybe he was right,” Erica shrugged. She wrapped her own towel as well as she could around the ample curves of her body. “This is… dangerous.”

“This as in werewolves?” Allison asked, eyebrows raised. “Or this as in… us?”

“I… I like you, Allison. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Are you planning to hurt me?” Allison asked, mouth quirked.

“No, God, no,” Erica shook her head, wet hair falling in tangles down her back. “Not on purpose. No.”

“But you’re afraid you will anyway?”

She didn’t need to answer. Allison could see the insecurity written all over her face, in the set of her mouth and the whites of her eyes and the color spreading over her cheeks. “Under all that leather and hairspray, you’re still that quiet, scared girl, aren’t you?” she asked, running one palm gently over Erica’s forehead. “You have power now, and so much control. You saved us tonight, and you didn’t so much as growl at me. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“Power can be taken. And it has been, from me, multiple times,” Erica muttered.

“Once by me. It’s not as if I’m helpless, or can’t take care of myself. It might be dangerous, but I’ve definitely gotten the one up on you before. Twice, I guess, if you count that time with the kanima venom.”

“Three times.” She stepped out of the tub and onto the mat, eyes dark. “In the basement. You sat in my lap and you kissed me and you held wolfsbane on my skin.”

Allison gaped. “Erica, you - you _told_ me to, I was just -”

“No, I know, I did. I told you to take it. I gave it to you, and you took it. It’s not always a bad thing.” Erica pressed a delicate kiss against her cheek. “It’s not always bad, to give up control.”

“Maybe we can…” Allison stopped, chewing on her bottom lip.

“What?” Her face was so open, so vulnerable there with her hair wet and her skin clean and her eyes bright.

“Like I said in the basement, I’m no good at control. I do it because I have to, because someone has to, but I don’t want it. I want to be free. I don’t want to be scared, and I want to be free.”

Erica nodded, eyebrows drawn. “Okay….?”

“So, maybe we can… give it up, together. Give it to each other, instead.”

The moment stretched as they watched one another with careful eyes. Allison’s heart beat fast in her chest, too loudly. She was sure Erica could hear it thundering away in that tiny, dingy motel bathroom, but it didn’t matter. She wanted her to hear it. The way it stuttered and sped, beat out the morse code of feelings she wasn’t sure she should have so quickly, so strong. She held Erica’s gaze, proud and plain, and waited for her answer.

Erica surged forward, trapping Allison against the bathroom wall with hips and hands and mouth. She drank kisses from Allison’s lips like water in the desert, and Allison kissed back, hard and desperate. The clash of teeth and tongues was a symphony of sensation that soothed the ache she’d felt since she’d pulled into that gas station a week before, suppressing and ignoring but never really ridding herself of. Erica hoisted her easily, and Allison’s legs wrapped around her waist as if that’s what legs were made for. Their towels slid to the floor, but neither of them noticed, too focused on the press of hot skin and hotter mouths.

Allison surfaced for a moment when she felt the bed against her back, but then Erica was over her, kissing and clawing at her skin with chapped lips and human nails. Allison took her by the hand, ran her tongue over the smooth, uncalloused pads of Erica’s fingers, earning a gutteral moan from the wolf.

“Told you I was going to eat you up,” Erica said, mouthing at the soft fuzz under her belly button.

“Get to it then,” Allison grinned, anchoring her fingers in wet tangles of blonde.

Erica’s mouth on her cunt was soft and wet, tongue flicking out to lap eagerly at the slick of her arousal. Allison bucked and rolled her hips, urging Erica’s mouth toward her clit, swollen and desperate for touch. At the first solid swipe of her tongue, Allison groaned, long and loud enough that whoever was attempting to sleep in the next room banged angrily against the wall.

Erica erupted into giggles at the sound, hot breath huffing out over Allison’s sensitized skin. Allison laughed too, before the sound halted in her throat at the feeling of Erica’s lips closing around her clit and sucking hard.

“Oh gah - oh fuck, shit, _shit_ -” her fingers scrabbled against Erica’s head, unsure of whether she wanted to push her away or pull her closer. Erica made the decision for her, pulling away to catch her breath. Allison caught her, squeezing her thighs around Erica’s shoulders and attempting to pull her back in.

“Where are you going?” she whined, hands clutching desperately at the bedcovers.

“Just resettling,” Erica promised, pushing herself up on her elbows and dipping her head back down. A finger probed at Allison’s sex, sliding easily inside where she was molten lust and roiling heat. “So hot for me sweetheart,” Erica crooned into her cunt, lapping and sucking at tender skin. “So good for me, aren’t you Alli? My hunter girl, going to come so well for me.”

The words made her ears hot, sent a flush down her chest and up her neck as she craned her head up to see. “Don’t stop, don’t stop -” she pleaded as Erica worked another finger in, and then a third. They moved quickly inside her, alternating between rough, perfect thrusts and deep, grinding presses against overheated flesh. The pleasure swamped her body, overriding her senses, filling her eyes and nose and mouth with the dizzying sensation of Erica on top of her, around her, inside her. “Oh, God, _Erica_ \- I’m gonna - I’m gonna -”

“That’s right baby, come for me. Want to taste it when you come,” Erica growled. Her eyes flashed yellow as she spread her fingers inside Allison’s cunt and twisted, sucked hard on her aching clit. Fire coursed through Allison’s veins, pleasure lighting her up from the inside, as she raced breathlessly over the edge. Erica worked her through her orgasm with slow, firm thrusts of her fingers and soft kitten licks that drew it out, out, until Allison was shaking and panting, too dazed to even moan her pleasure.

“Give me three minutes to recover and I’ll return the favor. Or I’ll have died from spontaneous orgasmic combustion. In which case, that’s sort of your bad,” she slurred, pulling at Erica’s shoulders with weak, watery arms.

“That’s what you get for wandering off alone in the forest,” Erica grinned, moving up her body with a line of nipping kisses. Allison groaned.

“Are we going to continue to extend this worn-out metaphor until it breaks down? Because, I don’t know if you remember this, but the hunter gets the big bad wolf in the end.”

Erica flashed her a smile, not a snarky, lascivious show of teeth daring her to move, but a genuine flash of bright happiness on her face.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So,” Scott tried to hide his smile behind his hand, but failed miserably. “Ummm… I guess you and Erica… well, the trip wasn’t all that bad after all, huh?”

Allison raised one eyebrow at him pointedly. “I told you some people aren’t friend material.”

“Right, of - … of course…” Scott said, confusion spreading rapidly over his face. She thought of letting him believe that for a moment, but in the end, his furrowed brow and little frown won her over.

“I didn’t say they couldn’t be _girlfriend_ material, Scott.”

“Oh!” He brightened up, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Well. That’s good then. Yeah. Um… Really good, Allison. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks,” she grinned, sliding an arm around her Alpha’s waist. She breathed in the sensation, held tight to him, to the pack, to Erica. It felt good. Really good. Like a choice. “I’m happy for me too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback is valuable to all fic writers, and I'm no exception. If you enjoyed this story, please let me know.
> 
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